Here to fix all of your problems
by LostInFictionalWorlds
Summary: Rachel calls for a handyman to come and fix her and Kurt's loft's heating problems, then leaves Kurt home alone to await the assistance. Who do you think comes to his rescue? ;)


**Here to fix all of your problems**

 **Handyman!Blaine equals a helpless!Kurt**

 **An early Happy Birthday, to VoyageAisa. I know that this is one of your…** _ **things! ;p**_ **Hopefully you'll approve of my shameful indulgence. So, here is a small gift to you to show how grateful I am of your comments, your part-time beta'ing and your friendship 3**

 **Mistakes are my own.**

"Yes, hello? Hi, yes it's broken, that's what I said. Kaput! I'm no expert but I believe we have a bust pipe, the water won't run, the refrigerator is warm and we need ice for our summer extravaganza tonight! Help!"

Kurt, leaning against the far windowsill of their shared loft apartment, takes the hem of his short sleeved tee in his hands and wafts it like a fan, sending a rush of cool air against his stomach and up to his chest. Rachel continues her tirade into the phone while Kurt practically hangs out of the window, trying to catch any breeze that he can.

Summer in the city has been rather gruelling this year, so of course their loft decides to break in all of the most needed places, on the night when they're supposed to be hosting.

"Ok, great, yes! Thank you and good day to you too!" Rachel exclaims, her voice dripping with politeness wrapped in sarcasm. She throws her cell down on the kitchen table and stomps over to where Kurt is pressed against the cool glass of their large, front window.

"Stop it." She says, hooking him around the arm and shoulder to drag him back in and down. "We don't need an ER trip on top of everything else today."

"You won your case then?" Kurt asks dryly as they slump down together in the middle of their hardwood floor, using books as hand fans and lukewarm watered cloths to press to their foreheads. It's the best they can do.

"Yes, they're _hopefully_ sending out a guy within the hour. That guy, Cop or Connor or something just loves the sound of his own voice, I swear!" Kurt smirks and watches as Rachel tries to blow her bangs from her face.

"We need an air conditioning machine, a ceiling fan and an emergency supply of iced water up in here. Oh, and…"

"Yes, of course, Rachel. Hey, why don't we just hire our own chiselled Greek gods to follow us around, blowing cold air on to our half naked bodies?" Kurt says, humour and sarcasm attached to each word as he stretches out across the floor. "Because obviously we have endless amounts of money to be able to afford it."

"Now you're just being silly." Rachel huffs out a laugh dryly and then suddenly jolts up from the floor "Oh my god, you're gonna have to wait here for the guy. I have to run out to the store to pick up some stuff for tonight. Should I get some icepacks?"

"And how prey tell would we keep the ice packs icy, dear Rachel?" Kurt quips from down on the floor, looking up as Rachel dashes about the loft, fetching her shoes and purse.

"Oh yeah right" she laughs "well hopefully by the time I'm back the guy would have fixed all our problems and hopefully I won't die out there from too much heat exposure." She picks up a shopping note from the kitchen table and her cell and then heads for the door. "The company they're sending out is called Anderson & …something. We don't need to pay upfront, they'll send out an invoice." And with a slide of the loft hatch she disappears.

Kurt barely has the energy to make any sort of reply and as the loft door slides closed he wipes a fresh sheen of sweat from his forehead and presses his cheek to the dusty floorboard below.

Any type of coolness, hygienic or not is greatly appreciated in this moment, and there's nobody around to judge him.

"Coming, coming." Kurt mumbles mostly to himself as he pads barefoot out from his curtained section of the loft towards the knocking coming from the front door. His bronze highlighted hair is ruffled from where he'd dragged a hand through it, trying to shake some of the sweat off and keep it from plastering to his forehead.

He misses winter and his knitwear collection. There are none of these issues in Winter. None.

He doesn't have time to check his appearance in a mirror by the time he gets to the door. He pulls down the hem of his black, sleeveless tank top (the third shirt change that day), straightens it out little and pulls it down over his dark gray, three quarter length yoga pants.

"Hi, yes. Sorry come in, thank you." Kurt pulls back the hatch, revelling at the sudden rush of cool air coming up from the main stairwell and steps aside gesturing with his hand. He doesn't even look up at the man who he's inviting inside his home, too enraged in his own heat fuelled problems.

The man on the other side of the door carries a heavy looking box, huffing slightly as he heaves it up on to the kitchen table, he watches as Kurt slides the door closed behind them. The guy retrieves a small plastic ID card out from the inner pocket of his tidy navy coveralls and holds it out towards Kurt.

"I'm Blaine," the guy starts from behind, as Kurt fiddles with the latch to close the door. "Blaine Anderson, from Anderson &-"

"Sons, yes. I know." Kurt finishes for him, swiping a hand over his face and up, wincing at the dampness. His cheeks are rosy warm. God knows what he looks like, right now.

"Its Bro's actually." Blaine mutters lowly and slides his card back into his pocket. Kurt clearly isn't interested in looking at it. Kurt doesn't even hear him.

"Well I hope you are otherwise I've just invited a total random in to my home and Rachel would go-" Kurt finally turns around, locking eyes with the man, and _oh._

 _Oh. Hello, Blaine._

He's speechless, at first glance. The man in front of him is grinning back at him, half up and half down and rather adorably. He has a messy head of dark hair which looks like it's been hand rubbed in every which way, and his dark royal blue uniform hugs his small, compact body in all of the right places.

He doesn't look like the type of guy who trails around with heavy tool boxes and fixes people's heating issues. He looks like he should be on a stage or under a spotlight or a red carpet. There's something about his whole appearance and demeanour which is just effortlessly charming.

His eyes are like liquid honey, so round and warm and bright. _Enchanting_ , somehow. Kurt can feel Blaine's golden stare bore into him, and when he blinks, a row of thick, dark lashes fluttering up and down, Kurt has to look away.

Blaine dips his head, his cheeks flush a little with spots of color and Kurt can see his long, dark eyelashes sweeping over the plump peeks of his cheeks.

"Yes, well I um- I'm here to fix whatever it is that needs fixing. You have a heating problem I assume?" Blaine gestures around the loft, to the windows thrown open wide and to the shitty little fan plugged in at the corner of the room not really doing much.

He then looks back at Kurt, at Kurt's wife beater vest, a little damp and clinging to his chest. His yoga pants are riding up his calves and Blaine drinks it all in, as if he's not even aware that Kurt can see him staring at him.

Kurt nods enthusiastically, jaw hanging open a little. "Hi Blaine, um yes, I-I'm Kurt. Uh thank you for coming; you're a real life saver." Blaine tips his head, nods a little and smiles again, so wide this time that it almost reaches the corner of his eyes, yet still a little shy.

"Well I'm hopefully here to fix all of your problems." He smiles and there's just something about that damned smile.

Kurt stares at him.

 _Yes, Blaine. Hopefully you can. You will._

Blaine has been in Kurt and Rachel's bathroom for the past twenty minutes, banging away at something rhythmically. And in that time Kurt has been close to what he assumes to be a mental breakdown in his bedroom.

He tries to fix his hair as much as he can with the added moisture; he fans himself and sprays some deodorant and a spritz of cologne. He thinks about changing his clothes once again, but his current attire may just be in his favour if the way Blaine was looking at him had anything to go by.

Eventually he emerges and hovers in the doorway of the bathroom. Blaine is on his knees on the tiled floor. His tool box is sitting open just to the side of him with a plastic sheet spread out underneath it. He's bent over, resting on his forearms with what looks like a spanner in his hand though Kurt can't really tell because the upper half of his body has disappeared behind the stand of the sink.

All that's in Kurt's view is quite literally Blaine's ass. And damn is it a nice ass. All wide and apple shaped round sticking out like an offering. His navy coveralls stretch over the swells of his cheeks so tightly that Kurt has to take a step back and bite his lip.

He can't _not_ look.

There's a thump and a metal clang and Kurt has to shuffle back and make himself at least try to appear busy when he realizes that Blaine is resurfacing. Blaine crawls back to a kneeling stance over his toolbox, perched like a proud Lion overseeing his land while he surveys the situation.

His thighs are spread wide, his coveralls pulled tight over his stomach and groin and the hem of his trousers ride up a little to show off a pair of lovely, bare ankles.

Blaine scratches his slightly dark stubbly chin, and the fuzzy lining of his jaw.

Kurt feels his knees go weak beneath him, he actually holds a hand out and braces himself silently against the wall. He imagines feeling that stubble scratch across his own face, over his shoulder blades and down his spine and—

 _Okaaay._

Blaine makes a little grunting noise followed by a string of mumbles, he cards a hand through his curls upwards, to the side and then back down again. His face is twisted in concentration as he stares down into his toolbox, obviously talking himself through what to do next in his head.

Kurt cannot stop staring. He's never seen anybody who exudes hot, sexy, cute, adorable, irresistibly charming and smart all in one go, ever.

Finally Blaine lifts his head and peeks up at Kurt offering a slight grin. Kurt pops up off of the wall and tries to look like he wasn't just standing there mooning over the guy who's trying to fix his heating issues. Turning his head this way and that, looking at random things in his apartment.

"Would you like a drink?" Kurt suddenly blurts out as nonchalantly as he can muster, hands held out in an open gesture. Blaine grins and bobs his head, causing an errant curl to drop forward and brush over his forehead. His hair isn't long, and Kurt can tell that there are some remnants of product in there, probably from earlier that morning before Blaine left the house.

Kurt imagines Blaine's house. Is it nearby? Is it big, somewhere on the upper eastside maybe? Or somewhere small and quaint? Kurt can easily envision Blaine living in a cosy one or two bed apartment, with natural wood furnishings and fresh cream painted walls with a hint of color and simple decorative touches.

Does he live alone? Does he have a small house cat hot on his heels as he pads around his home on an evening, or maybe an excitable puppy? Oh, god are there kids? Or worse, a husband? Worst still, a wife?

Kurt shakes himself out of his thoughts to find Blaine kneeling back on the balls of his feet, staring up at him with a slight mischievous grin on his lips and a twinkle in his eyes.

Oh, god. He hadn't said anything out loud had he?

"A drink would be great." Blaine says. "Thank you. Though I can't imagine you have anything chilled?" His grin grows wider, teasing and Kurt finds himself blushing but cant help but grin back.

"I'll see what I can do." Kurt replies, a little too high pitched for his own liking and turns on his heel towards the kitchen before he can make a further ass of himself.

The best Kurt manages to come up with is two glasses of orange not very fizzy soda, no ice. They're not exactly cold and refreshing but they're not warm either, yet.

Kurt turns from the kitchen counter with Blaine's glass in his hand and almost jumps out of his skin to find Blaine right there in front of him.

"Thank you." Blaine says, smiling as he accepts the glass and doesn't even wince at all as he drains the glass all in one go.

He leans in, reaches past Kurt to place the now empty glass on the drainer. The textured cloth of Blaine's coveralls rub deliciously against Kurt's bare arm momentarily and when Blaine pulls back Kurt has to stop himself from following him back into his personal space.

It's just too hot, Kurt can't even think straight. His temples throb as the heat pulsates around his body and god he just wants to _roll around on the floor with the guy._

Blaine points to the cupboard under the kitchen sink. "I'm gonna take a look down here now, if that's ok? Hopefully I won't get too much in your way." Kurt sides steps out of the way and both nods and shakes his head stupidly.

"Sure, sure. Yeah, please, go ahead thank you." Kurt rolls his eyes at himself as Blaine grins at him and then promptly sinks to his knees right in front of him as he reaches out for the cupboard door to pull it open.

Kurt heart slams against his chest. He feels heat rising up his neck, flooding his face. It's also pooling downwards and after hurriedly telling Blaine to holler if he needs anything he decides to take a timeout and rushes over to his bedroom, yanking the curtain closed behind him.

Ten minutes later he comes out from his hiding space to find Blaine propped up against the side of the refrigerator. He's pulled it out from the wall and there are cables flowing downwards and gathered on the floor boards. An assortment of Blaine's of trusty tools are scattered all around him.

Kurt notices almost immediately that Blaine's also obviously a little less dressed than he was before. His coveralls have been unbuttoned down his chest to his hips, his arms are slipped free from the fabric which is now hanging from his waist, balled up around a white tank top, quite complimentary to the black one Kurt is wearing.

Kurt whimpers, and then coughs and bites his lip to try and disguise the sound. Blaine doesn't notice. He's too busy staring down at the back of the fridge where all of the wires are clumped together. His arms are flexed up high above his head, his hands clamped down tightly to the edges of the top of the fridge to keep it steady.

God, those arms. _Those muscles._

Blaine's biceps are like two bulging fleshy mounds, attached to strong, wiry forearms, holding the big, bad fridge back while he inspects what's going on. Kurt is damned sorry that he missed out on watching Blaine hulk the fridge around his kitchen beforehand.

Blaine is clearly concentrating heavily on something, even as he stretches a thick, corded arm back to rub at a spot on his shoulder blade. Before Kurt can do or say something he may well regret, he retreats back to his bedroom with his tail tucked between his legs.

A short while later, Kurt is roused from behind his curtain by the sounds of singing. Lovely singing. A soft, quiet, velvety voice pitched with low, sultry tones is drifting melodiously from the bathroom.

Kurt tiptoes a little closer, completely enthralled. The tone of pitch changes into a somewhat higher yet still quiet range and Kurt shivers deliciously all over.

" _Why do you do what you do to me, yeah?..."_ Kurt grins, he knows this song, it's a summer classic. There's a slight muffled sound, a mumble, a metal clang followed by a new line. _"You really got me bad, you really got me bad…"_

The pattern continues like that for a while, with Blaine changing up the song and the lyrics to how he wants to sing it. His voice is lovely, and Kurt wants more. _More._

Kurt finally creeps his way forward enough to peek through the bathroom doorway. The narrow cupboard hatch is open at the back of the small room beside the tub and Blaine is standing on the other side of it, his head tilted downwards while he fiddles with the dials and buttons on the water boiler.

His booted foot is tapping against the tile and his head is bopping very slightly while he hums and mumbles his song, completely lost in both his work and the music in his head.

Kurt feels his heart leap up to his throat and his stomach does a funny little dance and a flip. He could walk away, go back to his room and leave Blaine be or he could say something, maybe even join in? He and Blaine could do some great harmonizing together, he just _knows._

He and Blaine could do a _number of great_ things together, actually.

"I love that song." Kurt suddenly says and mentally slaps his self.

He blushes when Blaine's head whips up and over to the doorway towards him, his eyes lock onto Kurt so fiercely but also so gentle. Blaine's eyes are wide and his lips are parted into a soft little o shape. He looks a little embarrassed but he's smiling and his eyes start to crinkle and smile with him.

Blaine rubs at the back of his neck and lifts up the tool in his hand up to his mouth, as if holding a microphone. "You got me." He shrugs and grins bashfully.

"A singing mechanic." Kurt exclaims, delighted.

" _The_ singing mechanic." Blaine corrects him. "Though, don't tell my brother I said that. He's competitive enough. "

They smile at each other so openly and for so long, allowing the silence to stretch on that it's both a little bit awkward and comfortably convenient.

Y _es_ , Kurt thinks. _I want to smile at you some more, have you smile back, look at you and talk to you and listen to you, all day. Please._

Kurt offers to make Blaine another drink, this one actually is a little warmer than the last one and offers him some Doritos and a slice of bread and butter. There really isn't an awful lot of choice right now.

Blaine politely declines the bread and butter but happily takes a handful of tangy cheese flavored chips when Kurt offers the bag to him.

"My brother says you guys are having some kind of party here tonight?" Blaine says conversationally, as politely as he can while chewing on a triangular chip. He's leaning against the dining table, his hip cocked to the side and nods his head towards where Kurt is setting out place mats and table settings. Kurt had decided that he may as well try and make himself useful, while hovering around.

"Yep." Kurt nods, shifting a napkin so that it folds neatly against the edge of a knife. "My roommate Rachel and I have been throwing these seasonal parties for the past year or so, ever since we moved in really."

Blaine seems to perk up at something and happily chews on another Dorito from the pile in his hand. "Oh, yeah. Your roommate." He says lightly as if confirming something. Kurt just smiles at nods at him questionably. "I uh, I thought that she may have been your girlfriend, or something." Blaine clarifies quietly, and then his eyes widen like he's totally just spoken out of place.

Kurt would hi five the air if it wouldn't look ridiculous to do so, because _beautiful Blaine_ here appears to care if he has a girlfriend or not. _Ha._

"No, not Rachel. Honestly? Nobody with a woman's reproductive system would suit me." He pauses to gauge Blaine's reaction but Blaine isn't quite looking at him. "But… even if Rachel was a guy? Still no." Kurt blushes and chuckles a little and Blaine laughs freely with him. He seems elated and Kurt laughs more with relief.

This whole afternoon, this whole interaction with the unknown hot guy in is apartment has been so strange and Kurt just doesn't know what's got in to him. Hey, he's single, he's a young guy with needs and its ok to do a little harmless flirting and window shopping right?

"Well." Blaine stands straight and claps the crumbs from his hands away. He observes how Kurt carefully sets the table and smiles watching him dot tea light candle holders in between the place settings. "I'll um" He gestures with a thumb back toward his toolbox and the mess he'd left all over Kurt's kitchen. "I'll let you carry on doing what you're doing and I'll carry on my job, and hopefully we'll get you cooled down and ready to party tonight."

 _Oh on the contrary, Mr sexy ass, singing, fixer guy._ Kurt thinks as he watches Blaine saunter away to the other side of the room, and his gaze certainly does not linger as he watches Blaine bend over to pick up something.

 _With you around, how could I possibly cool down? You're the only party I want in on._

"Do you sing?" Blaine calls out, surprisingly. He's been coming and going from the bathroom to the kitchen for the past few minutes or so, happily humming and whistling to himself as he goes.

Kurt has left him to it, pointedly trying not to gawk or stare like a madman every time Blaine has crossed the room. He's kept himself busy hanging streamers and arranging the furniture to make more space for tonight. But on the rare occasion Blaine has caught Kurt smiling softly at him while he sings the wrong words to something, yet still with impeccable tone and range.

When Kurt finally does turn around to allow himself to look at Blaine, he has to swallow down his words from tumbling straight from his mouth. _"Good lord, he's wearing a tool belt."_

Obviously the trek between the kitchen and the bathroom and wherever or whatever else Blaine has to do in between is too much to keep hulking his tool box around with him.

Where exactly he produced the worn, tanned leather belt with multiple fabric pouches from is anybodies guess. But _god,_ does it look good wrapped around Blaine's slim waist, weighted down with tools and other useful objects. There's a small notepad sticking out of Blaine's back pocket where his coverall is still folded downwards, hanging from his glorious backside like a loosened dungaree pouch. Kurt notices a lead pencil tucked behind Blaine's ear, poking out between his dark, twisted curls.

Blaine's eyes widen as he smiles at Kurt, he tilts his head forward a little as if waiting for something.

"Oh, yeah." _Right, question. Answer._ Kurt jumps into action; he hopes there isn't drool trailing down his chin from his mouth. "I'm uh, I'm actually a performing arts and musical theater student at NYADA. This is my last year. So, yes- I sing."

Blaine unfurls some metal tool out from his pouch and twists it against his palm, leaving a dark, greasy smudge on his skin. His face lights up for some reason. "I knew it." He smiles and pats the tool against his hand again. "I don't know why, I just knew you were that type."

"And what type would that be?" Kurt asks, folding his arms over his chest smiling back at Blaine if not a little questionably.

Blaine lifts a hand to cup his own cheek gently, only lightly. Kurt wonders whether it's a nervous habit. "The talented, creative, ambitious type." Blaine says, ducking his gaze a little. Kurt blushes immediately. "The type of guy I could see owning a stage or just whatever room or company he's in. You've got that look about you." Blaine continues and Kurt has to avert his gaze, it's just a little too much. Blaine's hand drops from his face leaving a light, trace of grease and _god,_ does Kurt want to run his thumb through it. "A look that makes me think you have quite the impressive vocal range and could quite possible give me a run for my money."

Their heads lift and their eyes meet at the exact same time. Bright and piercing, seeking gazes.

Kurt could take a chance. He could take it now. What's he got to lose? He opens his mouth, his lips curling into a small, half smile as he takes a step towards Blaine.

Blaine's eyes pop open fully, his entire face seems alight with delighted shock and surprise. His body posture changes slightly as he anticipates Kurt coming closer to him.

And then —

The loft hatch slides open abruptly in the background, it bangs against the far side of the doorframe and starts to slide closed again as Rachel bustles in, arms full of grocery bags, with a pair of dark shades sitting atop her head.

Kurt and Blaine turn to look at her. Blaine looking a little startled and Kurt a little irritated.

"Oh. Hello." She says, bright and chipper as always as she unloads the shopping onto the closest available surface. "You must be the guy. Have you got us all working again?" She eyes him vigilantly then sets her attention back to Kurt, her eyes alight with something mischievous.

Blaine nods and fumbles with the tool in his hand, he pops it back into his pouch and starts to walk back towards his plastic safety sheet and his box of handy items. "Yeah, I'm uh- I'm all done here, anyway. You're all working and …not hot…" He gives Kurt a look and then shakes his head at himself. "I'll just clean up real quick then I'll be out of your hair."

"Kurt, come help me?" Rachel asks, watching Kurt who almost snaps his neck as he turns to look at Blaine so fast.

 _What? He's leaving? No._ He picks up one of Rachel's grocery bags and carries it over to the kitchen counter.

He notes that the refrigerator has been pushed back into place, its little power light blinks to life with a glow, indicating its new working status. Kurt opens the door to put away some bottled water and soda cans and closes his eyes at the rush of new, revitalized cool air against his skin.

When he's finished unpacking he turns back around to find Blaine has gathered all of things back into his box and is sliding his coveralls back up his body. Kurt sighs inwardly and maybe just a little on the outside too.

Rachel shuffles past him holding packets of roasted nuts and pre-popped popcorn to empty into little glass bowls around the loft. She gives Blaine a grin as she passes and then stops.

"Oh, you gotta little something there." She says, pointing to the cute little grease stain on Blaine's cheek. Oh, how Kurt had hoped that he could have been the one to point that out, and also maybe be the one to help remove it. Rachel looks at him curiously.

Blaine ducks his head, a little embarrassed, and swipes up a rag cloth from one of his many pockets to wipe at his face with.

Rachel carries on about her business eyeing the two men rather closely. Suddenly she grabs her purse and heads towards the door. "Oh, shoot. You know what? I forgot um…something. Thank you, so much for saving our lives like this, Mr Anderson. Kurt will make sure you have everything you want -um need." She calls out, giving Kurt a pointed look before vanishing.

Both Kurt and Blaine just stare at each other for a bit longer before Blaine picks up his toolbox and heads for the door. He takes the notepad in his hand and plucks out the pencil from behind his ear. Kurt trails after him like a lost puppy, his hands fidgeting in front of him.

"Thank you, once again." Kurt says when Blaine turns around to look at him at the door. There seems to be a mask of longing on his face and a look of sweet sorrow in his eyes. He nods at Kurt and smiles but it barely reaches his eyes, unlike before.

"So?" "So…"

They both say at the same time and then laugh. Why do things feel so easy? So _right_ and normal?

"Could I, um…could I just take some details please? You know to verify where to send the billing invoice?"

"Oh, of course yes." Kurt exclaims. "Let me just find my wallet." He spins on his heel, patting down at his yoga pants thinking that it could miraculously be in there.

"Oh no," Blaine calls out and tenderly places a hand on Kurt's shoulder to stop him from moving any further away. Kurt turns back to look at him. "I don't mean like that, I don't need any card details or anything. Just um…a name and a-a number?" Blaine jerks his chin downwards to the notepad in his hand and the pencil ready to scribble away.

"Oh, sure. Yes."

Kurt gives him the necessary details and watches as Blaine writes the given information down so carefully like its sacred. He then tears the piece of paper off and folds it into a neat square to tuck away with his ID card.

"And you're um, you're uh unattached right? Just the roommate?" Blaine suddenly rushes out breathlessly, his eyes going wide as the words spill from his lips. "You know, I just have to add it to the uh- the database that we keep for all of our clients." He adds on quickly and then takes a quick breath.

Kurt just nods at him slowly and tries to give his best brightest smile. Blaine nods in return with his lips pressed tightly together and Kurt helplessly nods back unsure what

else to do or the say, the silence is becoming a little unbearable. It's all a little pathetic, like some plot-less romantic movie.

Kurt adds another weak "thanks" for good measure and reaches out to slide the loft door open. Blaine smiles feebly on his way past, heaving up the heavy toolbox in his hands. Kurt can just smell a hint of Blaine's scent, a mixture of cologne, clean sweat and good old rugged man.

"Good bye, then. I hope you enjoy your party tonight." Blaine says and suddenly his eyes are sparkling in that special way of his again and his smile has turned back up a notch. _Just_ a notch. He reaches out his free hand and Kurt takes it in his a little too eagerly to shake goodbye.

"Yes, goodbye. Thanks , I'm sure we will now that we won't pass out from over heating. All thanks to you. Our knight in shining armour… or you know, coveralls." He shrugs and is too far gone to care about how embarrassing and over the line he's being.

Under Kurt's fingers he can feel Blaine's skin, all warm and soft. The tips of his fingers are a little calloused and rough obviously from a hard days labour. Kurt thinks he could get used to that feeling. He could enjoy massaging those hands and that skin back to perfect health with a long soak in the tub and the use of his best lotions.

All too soon Blaine is pulling back, unclasping their hands and with one last longing look Blaine is slowly turning away from Kurt and heading towards the elevator.

He's just about to push the button to call for his floor when—

"Wait, Blaine?" Kurt jogs up to him, leaving his door wide open behind him in his wake. Blaine's arm is suspended in midair as he looks at Kurt, eyes wide, lips parted in a stunned silence. "You um, y-you said you had a database for your client's right?"

Blaine nods once.

"And Rachel called you guys, using our insurance details. You already knew where we lived and our details, right?" Blaine nods once more again, his eyes growing comically wide.

Kurt cocks his head to the side, a shy smile is dancing on the corner of his lips and his eyes are alight with mirth. There are color in his cheeks but it's no longer because of the heat.

"Then, why did you take my name and number if you already have it?" He asks quietly, softly, and points to the inner pocket of Blaine's coverall for emphasis.

Blaine looks like a four year old kid who's either about to burst from needing to pee so bad, from sheer excitement or preparing himself for the scolding of a lifetime.

His head drops down low on his shoulders and he lowers his tool box down to the ground. He drops his arm that was ready to push the elevator button and shakes his hands out in little rings of his wrists. He rolls his shoulders and when he finally turns back to face Kurt, completely lifting his head to allow their eyes to meet, Kurt is positively beaming at him.

Something in Blaine's face and his body posture cracks, he breaks out a grin so wide and bright and warm. "You got me, again." Blaine says but this time he seems far more ecstatic about it.

Kurt giggles and dances very lightly, slowly towards Blaine.

"So, are you gonna let me ask you out?" Blaine says. "You know, without breaking company protocol and using the client database." His voice is a little soft and shaky but his gaze is steady and sure on Kurt's.

"I have a better idea." Kurt says and he loves the way Blaine's triangular eyebrows raise up almost to his hairline. "Why don't you accompany me to the party here tonight? I mean you can't host a soiree without a date, right?"

Blaine grins, shuffles his feet a little and steps closer.

"I mean after all, you _are_ the reason why we're able to hold this party at all." Kurt adds, his voice sing-songy, light and teasing. His eyes dance with sparkles from the dim ceiling lighting up above as they search Blaine's face and roam up and down his body.

"Well," Blaine begins, his voice deep and seductive as he takes the final step and closes the distance between them. He bravely reaches out and lightly places his hands on either side of Kurt's waist, allowing his thumbs to rub slow, soothing circles on Kurt's hipbones. "Who am I to decline such an offer?" He smiles. "Let me just go back to the office, log in my report and then I can get cleaned up and changed and I'll be right back?"

"Or," Kurt whispers, dipping his chin so that he's almost speaking to Blaine's tempting jaw line and the curve of neck. He slides his hands up Blaine's chest and grasps on to the lapels of his coveralls. They're both hot and sweaty, the smell is heady and it's all so _wonderful_ and deliciously igniting."You could just table the report until tomorrow and come on in and get cleaned up here?"

Blaine's answering grin is slow and devilishly satisfactory.

"I mean, we do have fresh running water now, after all. We wouldn't want all of your long and hard work to go to waste." Kurt says and with that takes a step back and to his utmost joy and delight Blaine follows him.

Blaine's smile lights up his entire face, he looks unfairly too gorgeous. He quickly steps back to pick up his toolbox and then dutifully follows Kurt back to his apartment, step after step.

"Oh, yeah. About that." Blaine says once they're back inside with the door closed and he has Kurt caged within his delectable forearms against the back of the door. "Confession, I had everything back working within two minutes. It was just a power trip."

Kurt gasps and grins delightedly. "But you…"

"Like I could leave so quickly with you around, looking like _this_." And before either of them can say anything else Kurt presses his lips to Blaine's, curls his arms around Blaine's neck and down underneath his coveralls and lower still to his bare, clammy skin below his tank top.

And _oh yes._

All problems fixed.

 _Fin!_


End file.
